


Dr. Wilde

by LalondeBii



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Development, Hope, Horror, Multi, POV Original Character, Prison (Walking Dead), Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Survival, The Greene Farm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-05-13 19:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LalondeBii/pseuds/LalondeBii
Summary: Dr. Claudia Wilde, world renowned surgeon before the outbreak and practitioner of the impossible. She clawed her way to the top once before, maybe now that she's restarted at the bottom she can bring a few people with her along the way as she does it again.Cross-posted on FFN.





	1. Chapter 1

I don't like to remember how it all started. It's hard to think about how quickly it spread, how unprepared we all were.

We thought we were at the top of it all, Kings and Queens of the world.

We were wrong. We were _so wrong._

Mother Nature made sure to put us right back where we belong. To her? We were nothing but court jesters in her palace, relying on her good will and amusement to survive.

Too bad we pissed her off.

But like I said. I don't like to think about how it started, it hurts too much. Instead, we'll focus on what happened _after._

I knew the basics of survival, that I needed shelter, protection, water, and food- almost precisely in that order. Everything else became a luxury, something that somewhat baffled me in the beginning.

I didn't grow up wealthy, I knew what it ment to struggle without running water and electricity, but there was always someone or _something_ to fall back on, a friend or a human resource center that would provide help.

Now something that, as an adult, I always swore to never rely on again became the very thing I longed for.

Forget the diamonds, the fat bank accounts, the red silk to match the rich, red wines I drenched my liver in. Suddenly I was back at square one, in fact I was off the damned board. Everyone was.

Leaving all of those things behind hurt a little bit, all the effort to obtain a damned Ph.D, all the work to drag myself to the top, to become _the_ Dr. Claudia Wilde, most sought after surgeon this side of the _fucking universe_... All of it, everything that I bled for, cried for, did the _impossible_ for, was gone in a matter of weeks.

So yeah, it hurt a little. But, as I watched my beautiful townhouse get ransacked by those bastards who want to build _Alexandria_ , I grinned.

Mother Nature might be a bitch of the highest pedigree, but I'm still Dr. Claudia _fucking_ Wilde and I came from absolutely nothing once before.

I sure as hell can do it again.


	2. Well, Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited Jun 19, 2019: Nothing really changed, just smoothed the flow and added tidbits.

Breathing through the smoke is difficult, the sock I have pressed over my mouth and nose doing little to filter anything.

The tree I'm stuck in doesn't really protect from the heat either, it's too close to my former home to really do anything except release heavy black smog as the flames lick higher and higher, scorching the leaves. I can only hope that the tree doesn't become engulfed as well but it looks like it might.

Blinking the stinging from my eyes, I scan the ground, trying to scout out any Alexandrians that might still be there. Hopefully they've left already but I don't really see anything which doesn't really mean much due to the fact that the smoke is seriously obscuring my view.

After several more minutes and a quick glance at my watch, confirming it's unfortunate death, I decide to risk it. If I stay any longer I'm bound to be pinned in by the Dead and if that happens the smoke _will_ kill me. 

I chuckle, covering the need to cry with grim amusement. 

Death surrounds me on four sides: the Alexandrians, the smoke and flames, the Dead, and the fact that literally all of the things I need for basic survival either got stolen or burned with the house. If I make it out of this alive, chances are pretty strong that I'll die due to my lack of supplies.

"Come on, Claudia. Stop worrying about what you don't have and look at what you do." 

Hooking my legs around the branch I sat on to better secure myself, I began to do inventory.

I don't have shoes but I do have socks, I'm wearing sweats and a sweater with a cami on beneath it, no bra (damn), a broken watch (double damn), and a purse that I had been looking through when they broke through my private gate.

Inside the purse were a pair of shades, some chapstick, a single cough drop, three Tylenol, two tampons, and... a small pocket knife, the blade about the size of my pointer finger.

"Thank fuck." I sigh, testing the blade. Still sharp, but could stand to be run over a wet-stone some more.

After carefully packing everything back up I slid my sock back on and scanned the ground one more time before making my way down, silently thanking my need to stay in shape. No one takes an unhealthy doctor seriously and I vividly remember my teenage self being so weak she sprained her wrist lifting a gallon of milk. 

She would not have made it up this tree.

On the last branch I glanced around again, making absolutely sure that nothing in the immediate area that would attack me before letting myself drop the rest of the way down.

Quickly pressing my back to the tree in an effort to keep from being ambushed I dug back in the purse for the pocket knife, opening it and reverse gripping the handle for better maneuverability as I began to make my way across the land. Trying to get out through the front was a no go, if the Alexandrians weren't still here the Dead would already be bottlenecking it.

At the back of my property and hidden by the flowers I had planted was a grate that could be opened from this side. It was used for landscaping purposes, I had planned to have a small creek running along the edges of the yard, and should be big enough for me to wiggle my way out of. 

Ducking and weaving through the artfully placed shrubbery, I carefully made my way to the back of the property. I was half-way there and my heart began pounding with perceived success. 

The exhilaration lasted until I was on the final stretch and heard shouting.

"There she is! Get her!" Followed by the rapid pop of collective gunfire. 

Unfortunately I was on fairly open land right now and had no cover, so when the first shot exploded the dirt I had been moving to step on I panicked, causing me to over-step and trip.

From the sound my fall saved me from actually getting shot and I chanced a glance over my shoulder, spotting three gunmen approaching me at a run.

"What are you doing?! Don't kill her, we need her alive!" At this I shoved off the ground and really took off in earnest. I knew who their leader was and fuck-all if I become one of his _wives._

Negan had already began making a name for himself by the third week and word travelled back to me that he was looking for a doctor and seemed to have his sights set on me. Truthfully I should have known to move them but I couldn't bring myself to let go yet.

 _Now look at what it cost me,_ I thought bitterly.

Reaching my destination at last I dive into the garden, destroying my lilies in the process, and begin trying to lift the bar that keeps the gate closed. It's heavy and catches on the stonemason around it, but with one desperate heave I pull it out, scraping my knuckles badly while pushing the damn thing open.

I can finally hear the thudding of approaching footsteps over the sound of my harsh breathing and begin crawling my way out quickly. It's hard, I have to twist my shoulders to get them to fit, winding up on my back. My hips, however, get stuck and as I squirm I can feel hands latch onto my calves.

"Pull her back!" It's the same guy from before.

I yelp, dropping my knife in order to brace my hands on either side of the opening to keep from being dragged back in. Kicking my legs does little to help and when my arms finally begin to give and I can feel myself being pulled back to them, my resolve not to cry starts to break.

"Stop," I beg, kicking feebly, "Stop, please, let me go. Let me go." 

My voice cracks and I'm left to stare up at the clouded sky as my arms keep giving and I'm pulled further and further into hell. My eyes begin to burn with tears and the sky wavers like the ocean.

Suddenly I'm cut off by groaning and when I turn my head I'm confronted with one of those things. It's several yards off yet but closing in quickly and I can feel myself really starting to panic.

"Oh God," I croak, "oh God, oh God, oh God."

I begin kicking with renewed vigor, fear giving me strength and helping me gain back the ground I had lost.

"Shit! Pull her through, damnit, or Negan will have our heads!"

I can only assume that the man who had a hold of me foolishly bent down to get a better grip because my foot connected with something solid and the hands on my legs let go. 

"Tim, get this cunt!" 

With one final twist and push, I pulled through with a pained cry, feeling the skin on my hips scrape off. But I was free and managed to slip out of the loose grip I'm assuming Tim had on me, unfortunately at the cost of my sweatpants which were yanked off in the fray.

"FUCK!" 

The thing was finally close enough by that point to fall on me as I was trying to lift up, snapping it's jaws as it lunged for my neck. Before it could latch on (it was a close call, I could feel the hair of his goatee brush over my skin) I shoved the thing far enough back to bring my arm up and brace it across his throat to keep him from gettimg any closer as I looked for anything to kill him with.

My knife was too far away when I reached for it, but after scrambling around in the dirt with one hand I managed to reach a broken-off piece of slate rock roughly the size of a fist and started bashing it into the side of the thing's head. The smell of it's rotting flesh was almost enough to make me gag but the imposing fear of it's black blood splashing into my mouth was enough for my to tighten my lips into a hard line.

 _One- Two- Three- Four- Five_ good hits later it finally went down and after some struggle I finally managed to shove it off. 

I took a moment to lay there, dropping my arms back to my side and heaving great sobs. It was too much. Too damn much for one day and I sure as hell deserved my moment to deal with it.

However, time waits for no one, especially not at the end of the world and I refuse to be caught sleeping, or in this case crying, on the job. 

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay." I sniffle, swiping the tears and snot and I-don't-even-want-to-know off my face and sat up. "This is not the time for this. Get shit done, _then_ cry about how unfair it all is."

As I reached over to pick up my pocket knife from where I dropped it, I noticed that my purse was nowhere in sight. It must have fallen off on their side in my fight to get out.

At least I still have the knife, I thought before turning in the direction of town. It's dangerous, but the fire should lure the dead this way so it's no worse than where I'm at now. In fact, with the living running around here, I'd say town is the safer of the two.

I had mostly avoided it as I was able to raid the houses around me for what I needed but that's no longer an option and I need some supplies now. I can only hope that I'll run into a first aid kit to tend my wounds, otherwise the risk of infection is extremely high and something I'd like not to think about.

Who knew becoming a doctor would make me even more skittish about open wounds, no matter how minor.

But that's something to worry about for when I actually get there, right now I need to make my way through the forest. The forest that suddenly seems so much bigger than it's ever been before.

"Well," I sighed, "hell."


	3. A Moment

The forest is dark and smells of moss and the soft decay of plant matter. 

I remember being a child and spending every waking moment deep in the woods, looking for just a little bit of that fairytale magic hiding away in the quiet of the inbetween places.

The memory is vivid and for a second, just a moment, I look around and try finding it again. Under the drooping leaves, in the soft wood of a dead tree, in the cloves at my feet, I search for fairies, trolls, and tricky little woodland creatures of old.

They aren't there of course, not a trace to be seen. 

In the quiet places though, between the twitter of birds and the rustling of leaves, when the world is truly silent... It all feels like a tomb. Like somehow I've slipped between seconds and stumbled into the ancient mass grave of a dead age, where wild things roamed and the world teamed with impossiblities made, well, possible.

Even now this fills me with awe. Even now it strengthens my belief in those fairies and trolls and tricky little woodland creatures.

Even now it brings the realization that it's all _dead._ That maybe, where the world once bristled with this life, it was all wiped off the face of the planet.

Now I wonder if what happened then is what's happening now.

Then the moment is gone and seconds return with all the sound they bring but my sorrow remains.

"What a terrible world it is, to be without magic." I used to think this all the time. Now it just seems hollow.

My heart aches but I continue on, the shadows of a memory following me to the edge of an era's grave.

When my feet touch asphalt I brush the lethargy of mourning off and pick my way through the remains of another civilization. 

_Perhaps not as beautiful as the ruins of Rome,_ I think, _but certainly just as moving._

Maybe that's just sentimentality speaking though. After all, even in the throws of death humans remain vain.

It's a trait I've learned to recognize in myself, although certainly not one I'm prone to be ashamed of. In my opinion, everyone deserves to be a little vain from time to time.

 _Unfortunately,_ I think, _now is not that time._

Practicality is the name of the game right now and I've already spotted a near-by Wall-Mart that looks mostly intact. 

Probably because of the Dead stumbling around the parking lot in mini-herds. 

However I'm just on this side of desperate and the droves look to be continually thining out, even as I stand here. Which, I realize, is not a great idea and why I quickly move for cover.

It looks like most of the things are still hanging around though and I really don't have the time, or confidence, to just sit around and wait on the off chance that something happens to draw them away.

I shift around to make myself more comfortable between the wrecked cars I've hidden behind. It's time to actually use my brain beyond the "scavenge and survive" mindset I had grown pretty complacent with.

I couldn't wait around for a distraction so I'd obviously have to make one myself. It'd have to be big enough to draw all of the Dead (and I really need something else to call them) away, far enough so I'd actually have time to get what I need and not risk capture by Negan's thugs, and it has to be something I can easily get to.

Fireworks are out of the question for the simple fact that it wasn't even close to the fourth of July when this all happened and most stores don't carry them any other time of year. 

I might be able to cause an explosion but the risk to myself is too great. If anything it's plan Z.

Car alarms are too quiet and iffy about if they'll even set off...

Nothing else is forthcoming but I figure that I might be able to gather some ideas from looking around, so I brace myself to do just that.

Peeking my head over the hood of one of the cars, I notice with unease that about three of the... _Lurkers? Yeah, lurkers._

Three of the lurkers are closer than I'm strictly comfortable with. I watch them as they shuffle closer and closer to my location, heart in my throat.

An idea bubbles at the back of my mind, but it's pushed away for now as I take the initiative and quickly move to another cover further away.

The lurkers seem almost confused for a moment before one lifts it's head and... sniffs the air? 

_That must be how they know where I'm at,_ I watch as they turn and start following my scent again, _smell and sound must be how they can differentiate between living and dead in order to hunt. It's fairly obvious their eyes are no good, it's why they're attracted to flames. They're bright enough to be seen and hot enough to register on their flesh._

This information is actually pretty good to know for when I start out on my own.

_Note to self, grab a rain poncho, gloves, and something to cover the lower half of my face._

It would suck to ruin the clothes I'll have to wear and stick with, already the thought of covering myself with lurker guts is making me sick to my stomach.

For now I need to think about what comes next and as my eyes rove over the storefronts I'm struck with my own forgetfulness.

There's a bank about five blocks from here and it has the old fashioned alarm that makes a ton of noise. All I have to do is break a window and run, this town is still small enough for the bank to have non-bullet proof glass.

Beyond hoping the generators are still running, it's simply a matter of actually getting there, which considering the cars littering the street as cover it shouldn't be impossible. Just extremely dangerous and nerve-wracking.

With a deep breath I lurch forward to the next car, refusing to give myself time to chicken out of the plan. From there my mind settles in on the task set before me, the same mindset that made me a world-renowned surgeon aiding my efforts now as I push all other unnecessary thought and emotion away, focusing entirely on my mission and every action, precaution, and instinct that would ensure my success.

The way to the bank is riddled with the ambling dead and engaging them would be paramount to suicide so I focus on evasion and speed, quietly leaping over the hoods of cars, weaving between vehicles, and rolling under those I can in an effort to avoid contact.

Naturally I come across a few that I simply can't work my way around but with my knowledge of the weakest points of the human cranium I'm able to deliver swift, silent blows that drop the lurkers for good.

Eventually when I look up again I'm met with the still mostly intact front of the local bank. When everything went down money became the most pointless thing the world had to offer and no one so much as glanced at the bank with intent beyond trying to find shelter.

Peering through the window, I spot a single lurker roaming around inside with the emergency lights still blessedly on. The information is pointless beyond confirming the back-up generators still run though and I don't really have the time to sit around and day-dream. Already the surrounding lurkers have noticed my presence and have started to shamble over, so with rising panic I look around, only finding a manhole cover to use.

Getting the damned thing up is hard and re-opens the fresh scabs on my knuckles, but it also affords me an escape route. With a punch of exhaled air, I lift and swing the heavy disk through the window, shattering the glass and eliciting a loud buzz as the alarms go off.

The lurkers speed up and I quickly begin my descent into the storm sewers, re-orienting the direction of the Wall-Mart in my head and begining to make my way back over. Hopefully by the time I get there the lurkers will have cleared out.

As of right now though, I need to actually get there. 

In the dark.

In the sewers.

 _Damn_ , there goes my socks.

It's a shallow thought but still serves to destract me from my fear.

Picking my way through the tunnels is hard, I trip a few times and get turned around once but I still manage to find a grate close enough to the the Wal-Mart that I'm willing to exit here.

Carefully peeking out of the grate, an action which reminds me heavily of the Ninja Turtles, I'm glad to note that the lurkers have mostly left by now. A few stragglers remain behind for various reasons, all of which have to do with different portions of their lower halves missing, but I'd rather risk the few slow pokes over the living people who will inevitably check out the commotion.

Pushing my way out of the manhole was easy enough, as was making my way over to the Wal-Mart. The doors are wide open and from the looks of it I'd say the lurkers have all filtered out although I move forward with the belief that at least a handful remain out of sight.

I quickly shut the doors behind me and turn the lock. Hopefully there aren't any back doors open.

Turning back to the objective, my inner pack-rat both screamed in joy for the supplies I began collecting and cried for what I'll have to leave behind.

Clothes came in the form of a pair of double-stitched light grey cargo pants, long white socks, a sports bra with no underwire, a few pairs of panties, a long-sleeved button up flannel, a white tank-top, a sweater, and a pair of sturdy combat boots. I remember to grab a bandana to cover my face with before leaving the clothes isle.

Medical supplies were collected in their own little kit, basically painkillers, fever reducers, allergy medicines, and various other things to soothe common illnesses. Bandages were easy to collect as well as disinfectant. Unfortunately anything that needs stitches will have to work with fishing wire and sewing needles. I made sure to grab vitamins to supplement for what I will not be able to get naturally anymore and sunscreen to avoid bad burns along with a box of medical gloves.

Food was a lot of crackers, bread, and rice- things that get you full on less- with dried fruits, nuts, and jerky to cover all bases. Several bottels of water- a mixture of mineral, regular, and flavored- made it into the growing pile along with a canteen and a filter for outside water sources.

The filter won't cover all my bases, I'll still have to cure the water before drinking it, but it still soothes my mind to have the extra help.

Over-all the pile is large and I had to grab two bags, a backpack and an over-the-shoulder, to carry it all. 

I couldn't find a poncho either, although a cut up sheet should work the same. 

As I was looking around for the alternative poncho I found the weapons section, picking up a handgun and several boxes of ammo along with a couple of hunting knives. The handgun would be a last resort.

Looting the place took longer than I would have liked and I had to take care of a couple lurkers still in the store but the haul was worth it and the dead bodies simply supplied the camouflage I needed to get moving.

I was strangely grateful to put the whole place behind me though.

I suppose it had been time to move on for long enough, might as well actually start doing it.


	4. Communities

The heat is putrid with the smell of decomposing bodies and it's all I can do not to gag. I've already begun to raid stores for vanilla extract, remembering it to be an old trick used in morgues to combat the smell, but so far I've remained unlucky.

It's hot. The heat is oppressive and I want nothing more than air-conditioning at this moment, but I soldier on, rationing water to keep moving. 

My goal is to look for a place to hole up for a while, just long enough to find someplace more permanent, but so far I've remained unsuccessful. 

Already the solitude is beginning to play tricks on my mind, coupling with the heat to create ghostly voices and people to torment me. More than once I have turned in circles, looking for shadows of people long dead.

Crying is a no-go, an indulgence I do not allow myself. To cry is to break just a little, and while often enough what breaks is healed stronger than before, now is not the time for it. I would not have the chance to pick up the pieces before moving on, walking on the shards of myself and grinding them to dust.

The image is morbid and I laugh a little as I chew robotically on dried banana slices, the texture like styrofoam between my teeth. 

The dead have not traveled so far here, lumbering lazily in the heat, and it's a relief to not have to worry so much about being over-run. 

The road I'm following leads out of town and joins with Atlanta, though I plan to avoid the large city altogether and it's easy enough to ascertain it's position in relevance to myself based on the still rising smoke clouds.

The quiet is truly unnerving for what once was such a highly populated area and my footsteps have become audible to combat the shivers lancing up and down my spine at the innate wrongness of it all. It hardly helps, honestly only serving the purpose of driving home the fact of how alone I really am.

My mind wanders back to the feeling of human contact, both innocent and intimate. I miss conversation and the casual brush of shoulders between friends, the touch of a lover with fingers trailing over the dips and bends of human beauty.

Rolling my shoulders, I shrug the wistful thoughts off and return to scanning the area for lurkers or worse. It's been about two-ish weeks since I lost my home and I've become fairly skilled at spotting incoming danger but constantly being on high alert is slowly wearing down on me.

More than once I've caught myself slipping into a listless stroll, mind wandering as the lack of sleep rears its ugly head, leaving myself open to dangerous surprises.

Much like now, I sigh at the sound of a voice calling me to wait.

"Please, wait!" Turning around in a circle, hand on the hilt of my blade, I look for the source of the panicked cries. They're easy enough to locate, what with all the hollering and running, coming from the woods just on the other side of the sign denoting a farm nearby.

A woman and a man, heading towards me with about three of the Dead on their tails. The man is noticeably injured, relying heavily on the woman for support and causing both of them to trip and fumble around, allowing the lurkers to gain on them.

They obviously look well fed and clothed, a sign that they have a haven close by, yet they don't have the same brutality or look about them as an Alexandrian. If they were a part of that Hellish group then the girl would have dropped the boy to get away or the boy would have injured the girl to use as a diversion for escape.

They're too far out to be part of the Governor's group, a charming man with a charming daughter for all that they're foolish in remaining where they are, and they'd certainly have back-up to help if they were part of another community (a thought that causes nervous sweat to bead on my brow. With Terminus right around the bend that's too many differing hierarchies in one area with limited resources. War is bound to break out and with the rumors coming out of Terminus- dear God they eat people- and Alexandria- Negan at his finest-... It's bound to take a lot of people, bystanders or no, down with it.) so they must simply be a small group hoping to ride it all out.

I'm not quite sure if that thought was what made me act, or if it was the sight of more lurkers beginning to swarm them, but my mind was made up and I launched myself over the railing, running towards them after drawing my blade with the simple plan of doing my best to thin the herd.

Running down-hill towards the couple in danger with an open knife is certainly not the smartest thing to do but it's the best I could manage in the moment.

Thankfully I made it to them without grievously injuring myself, sparing nothing more than quick advice as I began hacking.

"There's a pick-up with it's door open!" A sharp jerk of my head indicating where, barely turning my full attention back to the task before me in just enough time to dodge the freshly rotting corpse of a child. The image was enough to shutter my mind back into surgeon mode, a mind-frame I have used to cope with much worse, and I repeat in my head 'now they can rest' as I skewer my blade through the top of the boy's head and move on to the next.

My movements are mechanical, practiced in a controlled environment before and only now being put to use in a way that makes it clear I've never really had to use them. Added onto the fact that pain doesn't make the damn things stop, my arsenal is limited to the very few brain-oriented lethal moves I know, moves meant to cripple that only slow the dead down enough to move away, dodge, or kill, and defensive stances that I bastardized to kill.

All in all, I hadn't properly practiced in years, I have no prior skill in killing people, my blows are clumsy and clearly modified, and the most knife oriented combat experience I have is limited to that one time as a child when I was being chased by an opossum and got extremely lucky throwing the hunting knife my dad had outside, so it's very lucky that I only had a handful of close calls while trying to keep from being surrounded.

By the time the last one was down I counted six lurkers I took down and two stragglers just now edging out of the forest as I dashed back to the truck I had told them to go to. My knife is gory and I hastily wipe it down with the rag I kept tucked in my belt for that very reason before shoving it back into its sheath at my hip.

The distance between the truck and I quickly gets eaten up and I dive into open door and slam it shut behind me, looking at the pretty brunette in passenger and injured blond boy in the back.

"We're going to have to stay here for a little while, at least until I can see if it's a herd or not. It wouldn't be good to get caught out in one, I've seen what can happen and it ain't pretty." The woman nods and leans back in her seat, sighing heavily and closing her eyes. The blond when I turn to look at his leg, however, is anything but quiet.

Between his groans accusations spill out.

"You killed all those people!" He jerks his leg out of reach when I go to touch it, glaring heatedly when I try again.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I seriously hope this man isn't that naive.

"Those people! Those sick people! You just killed them!" He spits, grunting when his hand grips too tight over the wound in his leg.

"Sick? They aren't sick anymore! They're just dead." Looking to the brunette next to me I receive a rueful smile.

"Daddy says they're all just sick. That someday, probably soon, there will be a cure and everyone can go back to normal. Like the flu or something." She shrugged, facing towards the window on her side. 

"It was only like the flu when they were alive. Even then a cure or vaccine wasn't feasible, we tried. The closest thing we had to compare it to was AIDs, a disease that while we had all the best minds in the world, all the best machines in the world, we still weren't able to find a cure or some form of remission for." Sighing, I sit back in my seat and shuffle through my over-the-shoulder for a bottle of water, sharing it with them when I do. "The best we could come up with was a type of host-parasite idea. Something sleeps in the brain until we die then becomes active and takes over. The process can be sped along by a bite but in the end we've all become hosts, the virus waiting for the chance to slip in and take over." Turning to look at their increasingly horrified faces I smile grimly before continuing. "Think of it like what can happen to the praying mantis. Now I'm no expert in bugs but I do know there's a type of fungus or larvae that will kill the mantis but take its body. Complete autonomous take-over, moving limbs, etcetera. The point being, those people are dead and a parasite has taken their body and it's motor functions for its own purposes. There's no going back from that." 

Sitting forward again I rub the back of my neck and slump. The idea is beyond horrifying and they'll need time to adjust, I certainly did. 

Glancing at them from the corner of my eye I decided now would be a good time to introduce myself, if only to bring their minds off the reality of their lives now.

"I'm Dr. Claudia White. I was a surgeon in Atlanta before I took vacation time off and all this started to happen. Which means," turning to glare at the brat in the seat behind me I shake the medical pouch clipped to my bag, "you best let me take a look at that before I decide the risk of it being a bite is too high and just do away with you all together."

The threat was empty but with what he just heard he was happy enough to let me roll the leg up and take a look.

"Good news, bad news. It's not a bite," carefully pressing on the edges to open it enough for me to get a half-decent look at the damage, "but you'll need stitches and I need to pull some debris out or risk infection. Straighten your legs out here, yes, and bite down on this. I have pain meds but they're the type that knock you out afterwards and we can't have that."

Pulling out a needle, a lighter, disinfectant, proper stitches (thank the Lord I found a bunch of rolls at a drugstore two miles back), tweezers, gloves, numbing antiseptic gel, and gauze, I grinned encouragingly.

"Giddy up cowboy, try not to thrash too much." Nodding at the brunette, who thankfully understood, she pinned his legs down for me and began coaching him through breathing exercises while I snapped on the gloves.

With a (donated) flashlight in my mouth I splash the wound with disinfectant and began the arduous task of fixing blondie back up to the sound of muffled screaming and grunts of exertion.

Carefully picking out shards of wood, I wipe the fresh blood away with a pad of gauze and triple check my work before carefully dribbling more disinfectant into the gash. Threading the needle and testing the strength of the stitching thread, I carefully wipe down the needle and thread with antiseptic before using the lighter to heat the needle enough to reassure myself that there likely isn't any bacteria there (at the hospital they would have come individually wrapped and disinfected but here they came in a package) and after shaking the needle to cool it down I pinch the edges of the cut together and begin slowly sewing the wound closed, tying the thread off and cutting it when I'm done.

Finishing off by smearing the numbing/antiseptic gel over the scar and carefully wrapping it all up in gauze, I sit back and begin repacking everything possible and throwing the rest into the glove box.

"There you go; it ain't as good as if you were in a hospital but for what it is, it's more than enough to see you through. When you get back to where you're goin' make sure to change the bandages once or twice a day, or just whenever possible if you can't do it that often." Pulling a bag of jerky out as a treat for a job well done, I settled in for a long wait, carefully watching the woods for a herd passing through.

"Here, it ain't much but it'll stave off the hunger and give you an energy boost. I reckon you'll both need it." I pulled out two bags of dried fruits (if I'm secretly gleeful to see my least favorite food stash shrink I think it's okay so long as it doesn't become a habit) and tossed one to each person.

The brunette lingers over opening her bag, fingering the plastic between her fingers and appearing deep in thought. Blondie doesn't, ripping into his bag and shoving handfuls into his mouth while barely seeming to taste anything at all.

It's as I'm chewing through a particularly tough piece of jerky that she finally speaks up.

"I'm Maggie. That's Jimmy." She opens her bag, carefully plucking out a banana chip to eat like the psychopath she apparently was. 

Silence settled between them, each finishing off their bag and sharing the water bottle between them. Minutes pass and just as I begin preparing to get out, finally assured that a herd isn't going to be crossing our paths anytime soon, Maggie speaks up.

"Wait." I turn to look back at her, hand on the handle. "Come with us."

Jimmy is obviously surprised but remains quiet, listening as Maggie continues.

"Come with us," she repeats. "Daddy's got a farm and I think he'd agree that leaving you out on your own wouldn't be right for us to do, seeing as you saved our lives and all.

"Plus," she continues slowly, "you might be the only one who can convince him that they really are dead. He won't listen to me, I've already tried. Besides, you being a surgeon? Daddy would be happy to let you stay just for that."

Chewing over my thoughts, I look out over the wheel and gaze out at the road.

"I take it that you folks plan to stay around here, thinking you can ride this all out at your farm." Looking back at Maggie, searching her face, I lay out the brutal truth when I see the spine of steel that would have her staying with an injured man regardless of the risk to her own life.

"You'll die. If the herds of dead don't get you then the people will." Maggie and Jimmy look stunned. "You got cannibals, raiders, and a man with good intentions on your doorstep. Eventually the dead in the city will come looking for food when the people in the city die or flee and you'll have a massive herd in your yard looking for something fresh. The way I'm looking at it, you better try convincing your Daddy to get what he can out of the farm and leave."

"Please, just come with us! He'll be more likely to listen to you than me. You've been out there, you've had the chance to see these dangers and you know what this whole disease really is. He's stuck on... Well, he's not ready to let go and he's suffering all the more for it." Maggie grasps my free hand as she pleads. "Please, I've still got a family left. No one will leave without him and I don't want to see any of them end up like that. Please."

I had already been half convinced to go with them to at least try before moving on in a day or two but my heart went out to her. I lost my family long ago, some to drugs, some to death, and the rest to life. The ache of losing them still lingers and I'd hate to leave someone to that fate without at least trying my absolute best to stop it.

I can't let anyone learn about that weakness of mine though, so I make a show of thinking about it, going so far as to sigh and glance at both their faces. Slowly I begin to nod, agreeing to go with them.

"Okay. I'll go. However! I reserve the right to leave whenever I want, with or without you."

"Deal. The farm is back that way." She points over her shoulder. "It's the only dirt turn-off after we go through town."

Turning around to look at the road, it's pretty evident that the farm is closer to the city than I had originally assumed.

"How long will it take to get there?" The road is fairly clear here; if I can find the keys to one of the cars sitting around then the travel time can be cut shorter.

"About an hour on foot considering we'll have to go slow for Jimmy. That's just to get to the car we left in town though. After that it's about a fifteen minute drive." Maggie sighs.

"We've been out here for hours." Jimmy mutters, looking at the position of the sun. "They're probably worried sick."

"Probably," I agree, "but if we can find keys to one of these cars it won't take that long. Unless one of you happen to know how to hot-wire a car?"

My hopeful question is shot down and I open the door with a grunt. 

"Oh well. We should probably get what we can out of these cars anyway. Never let a chance for restocking pass you up, it can mean the difference between life and death." Hopping out of the car, I turn to look at Jimmy. "You should stay here. Don't want any blood leading them back to us."

Closing the door on his pained face, I start testing door handles and looking for an optimal car or supplies. Maggie joins me after a moment, marking cars with a sharpie found in a consol as either useless, usable, and/or carrying supplies.

It's clear that whatever happened on the roads was bloody and brutal. I have to turn Maggie away from more than one baby seat in an effort to help her keep her lunch down and when I come across a family of five who obviously chose murder-suicide as a way out even I avoid it, telling Maggie not to go anywhere near their mini-van.

Eventually, after determining we've searched enough that I can confidently say looking for more would either be overkill or a waste of time, I return to the SUV marked with a nearly full gas tank and keys found in the ignition.

The supplies we took from each vehicle are quickly loaded in the hatch-back and I take rudimentary inventory as they go in.

Three full gas cans, various medications, food, weapons, contraceptives, feminine products, toiletries, and the hopefully-useless-for-a-long-time baby supplies.

One thing people will do, no matter the world we live in, is continue to procreate. If by accident or on purpose, I have no doubt that having the bare necessities needed for keeping a baby healthy and alive will eventually be important.

Like I said though, hopefully not for a long time. It's mainly why I made sure to grab every condom in sight. Eventually they'll be too old to use, but my goal is to at least have a steady home-base by then.

Lube for gay men or just whoever wants to use it will have to wait. Unfortunately, while I happily support homosexuality, lube isn't a life or death need. Besides, based on the stories my cousin used to tell, many things can be used as a stand-in. Maybe they're not as good as lube but they'll work fine if used liberally.

As for properly cleaning oneself before engaging in anal, I've helped my cousin get laid enough in college to know how to jerryrig an enema.

Ripping my thoughts back out of the wild nights spent partying with Kevin in our college days, I slam the hatch-back shut and jog back to the truck to get Jimmy.

He's sitting with the door open, watching me as I make my way back to him.

"You looked a little lost there for a moment. Something on your mind?" 

"Just a memory." Grabbing his left arm, I throw it over my shoulders and began helping him out of the pick-up.

"Ah." He doesn't say anything more as I guide him over to the SUV, Maggie opening the back door and helping me situate him inside so he can scoot back and lay down.

Maggie closes the door carefully, making sure that his feet aren't in danger of being caught while I jog around to the driver's side and get it, turning the key and selecting a CD at random to play.

Maggie hops in just as the first chords to Killer Queen ripple through the air, raising her brows and buckling in while Jimmy hums the tune off-key.

"Jimmy, I'm going to tell you something someone once told me." I pull out onto a clear section of road before looking back at him through the rearview mirror. "Stop."

Maggie snorts and Jimmy gasps in offence.

"Did you listen?" She asks.

I click my tongue, tapping the steering wheel with my thumbs. "Hell no." 

When Jimmy starts singing again Maggie joins him, mashing up words when they can't remember the lyrics.

Just as the lyrics run over the words "guaranteed to blow your mind" I join in as well, hollering purposely as off-key as possible and stirring them up into a competition on who can sing it the worst.

The ride after that is fairly uneventful and quick, only taking half an hour to reach their car outside of a drugstore due to having to maneuver around other vehicles. By that point my earlier thoughts of Kevin and our college days had brought the memories back to the front of my mind and the grim state of the world had encouraged me to share so  
I had dived into telling them some of my craziest sex stories, getting them to blush and laugh over some downright embarrassing situations that could only ever be funny in hindsight.

"Yeah, so that's how my professor found us the next morning. The handcuffs were jammed, the door locked with our clothes on the other side, and we were ass naked, him stuck bent over the desk and me trying to pretend paper and scotch tape was enough to keep us decent. Later that day he was kind enough to return the lube and strap-on we left behind in our hurry to leave. Honestly, I think he was too amused to be angry about the fact that some guy's cum was dried on his desk for hours." Maggie and Jimmy were in stitches, all of our faces red from both the embarrassment and laughter. "Anyway, we're here."

Maggie shook her head, breath shuddering and laughing the type of genuine belly laugh that tapers off sounding like one is on the verge of tears. Zack just lays back, trying to catch his breath as Maggie slides out of the car, rounding to his door and pulling him out when he offers his arm for assistance.

Rolling down the window as they walk around the front to get to their old station wagon, I call out. "Hey, maybe tomorrow we should come back and pick up whatever is left. Leaving any of this behind… while it may seem like a good thing to do in case anyone else comes along, we'll eventually need it ourselves. When we head out on the road to look for a better place to stay we'll be wishing we did."

Maggie nods as she seats herself in the driver's seat after having helped Jimmy get in the back. "Okay, but Daddy might not let me leave for a while after this and Jimmy's out until his leg is better, so you'll have to pair up with Otis probably."

"I don't know who that is, but that'll work. So long as we can get what we can." Rolling my window back up I wait for them to pull out so I can follow.

The silence while driving is softly threaded through with various Queen songs before we finally come across a lonely dirt road shaded with trees that Maggie turns down. The road is long and the farm it leads to is beautiful and obviously stuck on the world before the fall which is a mildly terrifying thought.

People come rushing out of the charming farmhouse at the end of the drive, a young girl running out to meet the station wagon and hugging Maggie when she parks and steps out to meet her.

As I'm pulling in next to Maggie, I can hear the girl cry out when she sees Jimmy.

"Jimmy! Daddy, Jimmy's hurt!" She's pulling the door open and moving aside for a man who I can only assume to be her father. He bends down to peer at Jimmy's leg and I finally stepped out of the SUV to go stand by the older man's side as he inspects my work.

"It's not perfect," I start, "but considering it was done in a pick-up truck with a flashlight, I'd like to count it as a job well done."

The man stands up and quietly observes me before nodding his head. I have a feeling that his expressions generally consist of serious and more serious.

"What you consider a job well done is what I, and many others, would consider expert craftsmanship." He held out a calloused hand for me to shake. "I'm Hershel Greene, I used to be the town's vet. I'm glad you were there to patch him up."

"She did more than that, Daddy. She saved our lives. We were surrounded and there wasn't much else we could do to help ourselves." She tucked her hair behind her ear and shoved her hands in her pockets. "There's some other things I think you should know about too, but we'll need time to discuss it properly later."

"Well. Thank you, miss..?"

"Oh, it's Doctor. Dr. Claudia Wilde, I was a surgeon before all this." A wave of my hand to encompass the dead rising seems a little understated, but tact says bringing it up will be pressing on a sore spot based on Maggie's claims of his 'not being ready to let go'.

"Ah, well, Dr. Wilde. You saved not only my daughter but a boy I consider my son as well today. You're more than welcome to stay if you have nowhere else to go, we'd do well with a surgeon around anyway. We've been making due with just me, but I figure I don't stand much in the way of a proper human doctor." His face eases into a welcoming smile although his eyes remain somewhat calculating.

"Thanks." I grinned, gesturing to the house. "Unfortunately I'm afraid we will have to have that talk soon. I'll help you get Jimmy set up in the house then we'll get to it, alright?"

"This must be an awfully serious discussion." He says warily before nodding to an overweight man. "Otis, help the good doctor here get Jimmy into his room. He'll need to rest that leg and Maggie-" Maggie shakes a pill bottle she must have gotten from the car.

"Don't worry Daddy, I'm way ahead of you. I already gave him a dose of antibiotics on the way here, he'll need another in about six hours though so here you go." She tossed the bottle to me and I slip it into a deep pocket.

"I'll check in on him at ten o'clock then, for right now the best medicine he can get is sleep." I help Otis get a good grip on Jimmy and follow them into the house, getting introduced to everyone else as I go.

Beth is the fretting girlfriend to Jimmy and Maggie's younger sister, Otis is a farm-hand with his wife Patricia, and Hershel is the owner of the farm and father to both Beth and Maggie.

They seem to be very tight knit, old bonds growing stronger with disaster and shared heart-ache. I genuinely dread having to tell these people the truth, but after checking Jimmy's bandages and elevating his leg on a pillow, I buckle down and walk downstairs to start the music.

* * *

It's dark when I finally leave the sitting room to check on Jimmy. My throat is hoarse from all the arguing but Hershel still refuses to accept the dead as actually being dead.

The only thing I succeeded in convincing him of was the danger of lingering with three competing communities surrounding him and a herd on the way. Even then he refuses to move until the threat presents itself.

After negotiating with him we finally agreed that we'll start packing up to leave should anyone else find the farm without being explicitly lead by one of the current residents- a group which now consists of myself- or the frequency of spotted lurkers increases in a way that cannot be written off or ignored.

Jimmy is asleep when I enter the room with a glass of water and another dose of antibiotics so I set the glass down and gently shake his shoulder.

He jerked awake with a snort and I lean back as he tries to sit up quickly.

"Whoa there, Buffalo Bill. Calm down, it's just me. I have your medication and a glass of water here." Handing him the pills I grab the water and sit down on the bed, watching as he tosses them in his mouth and handing him the water when he reaches for it.

As he sips on the water I glance around the muggy room, standing up to open the window and letting in a cool night breeze.

"Thanks." He sighs, settling further into his pillows and fanning his shirt. The glass is empty on the nightstand next to him so I grab it and go to the bathroom to refill it, setting it back down within his reach when I come back.

"Let me change you into something lighter." I move to his dresser and start searching the drawers.

"I can do it." He goes to sit up but collapses back, groaning.

"No you can't. Those pills tend to take a lot out of people, drains them really fast. Besides, you need to try to avoid moving that leg at all, it's already been put under far more stress than I like." Plucking out a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, I turned around to face him. "Trust me kid, you have nothing I haven't seen before and I like my men a little older. I won't say around my age because I'm an equal opportunity lover, but I didn't even like teenagers when I was one so don't be worried about me copping a feel. I'm also going to have to be the one helping you bathe and use the bathroom, so best get used to it now."

When I turned around, deftly ignoring the sound of teenage angst in order to close the drawer, I spotted a picture of a naked girl who isn't Beth or even on the cover of a nude magazine. Add in the fact that Jimmy is in it- and her- and the implication is clear.

Reaching in to grab the picture reveals several more of the same girl in different positions, locations, and seasons. It wasn't always just Jimmy in the pictures either, clearly it was more than one guy going at it with the same girl. Shuffling the clothes aside further revealed disks labeled with dates and a fetish obviously featured in it.

"Whoa, Jimmy. Talk about needing a better place to hide your porn." Lifting up the photos for him to see it's almost amusing to see how fast his face loses all color. "Don't worry, I won't tell. I get it, you're young and Beth seems like the type prepared to settle down with you already while preferring to wait until marriage for sex. Trust me, I was your age once and I've been on all three sides of the cheating triangle and it can be thrilling, though it's not a healthy mindset to have. Hell, I still hadn't stopped sleeping with married men when the world went to shit, it was exciting and I liked the whole 'cloak and dagger' experience. I'd blown through so many relationships when I was in my early twenties because I used to like getting with the good ones just to run around on them without ever being caught. Then I'd get bored and find a new one. Wash, rinse, repeat."

Jimmy's shoulders have relaxed by now so I take his relatively small stash of porn and the clothes I picked out for him and go sit next to him on the bed.

"I wasn't a very good person then, nor am I now. I grew up mostly in the care of my uncle after the death of my parents and monogamy was never in his vocabulary, so my view on relationships was skewed to begin with. I thought settling down was like dying so I never did. However, if there's one good thing that came out of all my running around, it's my ability to tell you this. I don't know how long you've been dating Beth, but it's clear you've cheated on her more than once. Doing that does something to you, it makes you afraid of commitment, of really giving your heart to someone, because you're aware of what you did to someone else when they gave their all for you. You stop being able to trust people and you run away from happiness because you know some of the worst that can come from it and you're terrified of how that will feel." Jimmy is looking at my hands as I flip through the dates on the back of the pictures. "I'll even bet you're already beginning to feel like that. So here's my advice to you."

Holding the disks and images up before setting them aside, I continue. "Burn them. If you love her, you'll burn them so you can wash that away and start again with your best intentions at hand. You're not like me, you stayed even when you were able to get what you wanted from someone else, so there is still a chance you can have that fulfilling kind of love with her after all. Just restrict yourself to your hand and imagination and if you feel like you need more try talking to her. She'll at least know how you feel and might be willing to let you keep porn mags without developing any sort of complex. I'll get them for you too, so don't worry about having to explain to Hershel or anyone else."

Stuffing the stack of CDs and pictures under the mattress in hopes he'll take the hint to sleep on it, I stand back up to help him change.

After he's settled down and drifting off again, I move out of the room, turning off the bedside lamp as I walk past it and shuffling to my own room for some rest before tomorrow.


	5. Lost and Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update

The flames are soothing in the way that they snap, reminding me of childhood nights spent outside with freezing winds and rustling leaves.

Jimmy seems relaxed as we watch the pictures shrivel up and the plastic dvds buble and warp. 

“Have you ever loved anyone?” The question catches me off guard.

“What?” 

“Have you ever loved anyone?” He repeats, turning his head to look at me this time, a wondering look twisting his brow. “You never told me if you loved anyone before. I know that you’ve been with a lot of people but I somehow doubt that you loved them so much.”

Raising my brows, I can’t help but laugh at the question as my mind drifts back through time. “I did love them, it was just that… I had given my heart away already, you know?”

His confusion was visible and so I continued.

“I haven’t actually had the chance to talk about him in years now that I think about it. Strange how time just slips away.” I sigh, turning back to the fire. “Anyway, I did actually fall in love when I was about twenty-three. We were both in college at the time, I was studying to be a lawyer and he was studying to become a doctor. He was my first in everything; my first kiss, my first sexual experience, truly and honestly my first love. We were even going to be married.

“He was in an accident though, caused by a stupid kid not paying attention to who had the right of way. He suffered brain damage and by the time emergency responders were on the scene he was already brain dead. There was truly nothing that could have been done to save him- at that point it was just a matter of letting go. I couldn’t though. I felt as if I had been cheated. So, I changed my major from law and studied for med school instead.

“I had something to prove and, by God, I did it. Cutting edge studies in reducing chances for death due to head trauma, new ways to perform dangerous surgeries that reduced the patient death rate by astronomical numbers, surgical cures for ailments previously thought untreatable. I was queen of the world… for the most part, at least. When I say that I’ve loved everyone I’ve been with, I mean it. However, a good portion of that love was produced by the fact that I could never really have them. They were safe. 

“Eventually though, it became more about making other people suffer even a fraction of the loss I suffered. My heart was jealous that they could love so easily and I wanted to punish the people who dared to love me in a way I simply couldn’t return, so I got into relationships just so I could hurt my partner and I ruined other’s relationships because seeing them happy hurt me.”

Smiling wryly, I look back at Jimmy. “Now, don’t get me wrong. Once I got a taste for it, I really just began to enjoy it. It developed a new facet, it truly became fun to me. It wasn’t until I reached thirty that I realized the damage I caused myself while ruining people like that. I fell in love again, or rather, I began to fall. So I cleaned up my act and try to be with them, to give him my heart. But it wasn’t made to give away anymore. It was transformed into this ugly, distrustful, desperate creature that simply devoured any happiness that began to bloom between us. I was no longer able to trust anyone because I knew better than to trust myself.

“I was selfish Jimmy, I still am, and in the end I lost the one thing I wanted most because of it. I lost my chance at a family of my own.”

Jimmy had an unreadable look about him, although it had traces of pity lingering about the edges. “That…”

“Hey now, don’t pity me kid. I did this to myself and I certainly don’t deserve sympathy of any sort. In the end, I got exactly what I had coming to me. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Waving my hand dismissively, I stood up and offered him a shoulder to lean on as we headed back into the house. He needed to rest that leg and I needed to gather Otis and Maggie up for a hunt before the day was out.

“Now,” I said, tucking him into his bed, “talk to Beth. Let her know how you feel and work it out. In this day and age none of us really have time to dilly dally about all bashful like.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Hey now, no need to insult me like that. I’m only thirty-two and I know for a fact that I still look in my late twenties. Lord knows I agonized over never wearing heavy make-up to insure that, damnit. I’ll not have you shirking all my efforts.” I flip my hair dramatically.

“Really? Maybe you should’ve worn more make-up. Just because you look young doesn’t mean you’re a catch.” His smartass mouth fired off.

“Oi, maybe we should get your eyes checked too. You’d have to be pretty damn blind to think all of this,” I gestured up and down my body, “is anything less than sheer perfection given human form. Jesus blessed you when he let me walk this Earth and it’s downright blasphemous to think otherwise.”

I threw my head back and laughed the most poncy laugh I could manage, making him crack up.

“God, you’re so weird.” He waved me out of his room. “Leave before I choke on all that narcissism.”

I swayed my hips comically wide as I strutted out of his room, “It’s not narcissism if it’s the truth.” 

I quietly closed the door on my parting words and began to make my way down to the family room, on the hunt for a troublemaker and a farmhand.

* * *

* * *

Time flies as we gather supplies for the day that we inevitably have to leave and most of my nights are spent bent over a map, charting routes and marking possible safe havens to rebuild a life at a safer place. However, each location I marked on the map is continuously struck off due to close proximity to a rumored civilization with not so great practices, or simply too close to previous cities with high population counts. 

It isn’t until Otis and I are on a scavenge for supplies that a memory strikes me.

“Holy fucking shit, I’m literally the stupidest person to ever walk this planet.” Otis looks up quizzically from where he’s raiding a vending machine.

“You ain’t stupid, what even has you thinking something like that?” He stands up and shuffles over to where I stand, holding a magazine.

Flipping it over I reveal the front. It labels a picture of a bunker for sale as a remodeled living space going for $17 million. 

“I almost bought this place a couple years back, before it was remodeled. I thought it’d be cool as fuck to have my own bat cave so I took a tour of it and everything. I even had the papers drawn up ready to be signed but backed out at the last minute to buy a house in malibu instead. I completely forgot that this place even existed, what the fuck is wrong with me? I even remember where it’s at, although I was drunk as all hell when the realtor took me there. For fuck’s sake Otis, it’s only a three hour drive from here, maybe a couple days due to all the roads being blocked.”

Otis grabbed the soiled papers and looked back up at me. “Alright, maybe you’re a little touched in the head after all.”

I groaned and turned to the nearest wall, lightly smacking my forehead against it. “I swear to God, I’ll never live this down.”

“No,” Otis agreed, “no you will not.”

“Well, do we have everything we need? It’s getting dark out and I’d like to inform everyone of the sheer stupid I’m ailed with.”

“Yeah, we’re good. We shouldn’t go back on the roads though, the lurkers are out and about,I think they’re beginning to catch on that we come here often.” He pointed out the window and I jump back at the sight of one of them pressed to the glass.

“Out the back it is then.” We shuffle back through the store, leaving through the back and heading through the woods there. 

“This is a bit of a longer route than I really like, but if we follow this stream about two miles, we can cut up through the trees back to the farm in about three hours without being spotted by anyone.” Otis whispered, gesturing to the small trail of water at our feet.

Nodding, I hitch my backpack higher and shift the axe from my belt to my grip, settling in for a long walk.

We cut down a handful of lurkers as we go but it’s only about three quarters of the way to our turning point that we come into a real problem.

A childish scream tore through the air and we jerked to a stop, spinning around as we try to locate where it was coming from.

“Please tell me that was a coyote or something.” I look at Otis.

“I don’t think so.” Was his grave reply.

Another scream and we both shoot off into the direction we think it’s coming from. I quickly out pace Otis, jumping over roots and dodging low hanging branches as I try to reach the kid before it’s too late. 

Unfortunately I reach the scene in only enough time to watch as her ankle is mauled by one of those beasts.

“No!” I quickly bring the axe down on the bastard’s head, killing it and turning to the other two stumbling closer. 

A quick scuffle and both of their heads are caved in, giving me leeway to approach the crying girl.

“Let me see!” I snap, dropping my axe next to me and yanking her leg out of her grip, straightening it out to get a better look at the damage.

She cries out, hyperventilating at this point and close to blacking out. Otis finally reaches reaches us then, panting heavily with sweat coating his shirt. 

“She’s bit.” I state grimly, looking down at the bloody chunk missing from her achilles tendon.

“Shit.” He hisses, approaching the girl and kneeling next to her, gathering her into a hug and holding her as she wept.

Laying her leg down, I see the axe and a terrible idea forms.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t just leave her here.” He’s already crying for the girl, tears evident in his voice.

Pulling my bag from my shoulders, I unzip the front portion and pull sterilizing alcohol from it, looking up and giving Otis an unreadable look.

“Hold her still. Whatever you do, don’t let her move.” He’s confused until I pour the alcohol over the blade and wipe it down with a cloth, cleaning it as much as possible.

“No. No way in hell am I letting you do that to this poor girl!” I’m already pulling the belt from my waist, prepared to tie it above her knee.

“Damnit, Claudia, I said no!” He jerks forward and grips my left hand in a death grip, not letting me move.

“Otis, this is the best shot she has! If we remove the leg now there’s a chance the infection won’t spread and we can save her.”

“I’m not letting you toture this poor girl to death! What are we going to do about the bleeding? She’ll bleed out before we can get anywhere!”

Snarling I yanked my hand from his grip, turning to the girl and asking her plainly, “If there’s a chance I can save you by cutting off your leg will you take it?”

“What the hell Claudia, she’s a kid, you can’t ask her that!”

“There’s no such thing anymore Otis! There’s survivors and the dead, this girl can choose to survive or to die. It’s her choice.”

Turning back to the girl I pose the question once more. “Do you want us to put you down or do you want us to try saving you first?”

Her sobs have somewhat trailed off at this point but already I can see a decision being made.

“I don’t wanna die.” She hiccups, holding on to Otis tighter. “Please, I don’t want to die, I want mama, please.”   
Glaring at Otis, who just glares back, I command one more time. “Hold her as tight as you can. Don’t let her move.”

His jaw twitches once, twice, and he gives in, pinning the girl to his chest and turning his face away. 

Quickly I slip the belt over her knee and tighten it until I’m no longer able to, quickly wrapping it around her leg three more times until I can pin it closed. I wipe down the area I plan to cut with disinfectant and kneel next to it, grabbing the axe and carefully aiming. Already I can feel bile building in the back of my throat but I shove it back down and let the clinical mind that lead me through surgeries take over again. 

It’s not a perfect cover as the girl is still very much awake and aware, but it’s just enough for me to bring my axe up and swing it back down with a sickening, wet sounding thud. Her scream is cut off as she blacks out from the pain and two more heavy wacks severs the limb entirely.

I quickly disinfect and bandage the wound, praying we can make it somewhere in enough time to save her.

“The best thing we can do is head back to town. It’s a shorter distance and they have a vet clinic that we can maybe find something in to help her.” Nodding my head, I finish up the bandaging and stand up, unable to directly look at the leg laying at my feet.

“Good idea. It’s probably best if you carry her. I doubt she’ll be okay with waking up in my arms after what I just did.” Otis grunts and it’s only then that I notice he isn’t looking at me.

Which is fine. I really hate myself too right now.

“Come on. I’ll make sure nothing gets too close.”

He lifts the unconscious girl in his arms and begins walking back to the little town we just came from and I follow just behind after briefly scrubbing what blood I could off into the stream.

Our pace is brisk but we can’t risk running when it can attract lurkers or make Otis trip and hurt the girl in his arms even more.

The day seems to stretch endlessly before us as we rush against time to save the poor girl.


End file.
